Sacrifice
by riabarro05
Summary: Following old traditions, Hermione Granger is offered as a sacrifice for the Kingdom of Hogwarts to flourish. (Tomione. Creature AU. Veela. Lemons.)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** There were a lot of plot changes from when I started writing this piece, to when it ended. It was a totally gentle animal when I began, and turned rabid midway through.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hermione Granger or Tom Riddle or any of the characters mentioned below. The story was also inspired by a WIP Dramione fanfic I read that had not been updated for almost 3 years. I decided to play with the concept, and here it is~ Enjoy!

* * *

"It has been decided."

A resounding cry was heard throughout the throne room of the castle.

The crowd became listless; whispering and mumbling amongst themselves as they slowly march out of the room—except for two people who broke through the throng and threw themselves at the foot of the throne.

" _Please,_ I beg of you, Your Highness," Helen Granger was on the floor, unending stream of tears flowing out of her eyes. "She is but a child. Barely reached her 18th year, Your Highness—" desperation heard clearly in her voice, she was engulfed in an onslaught of tears, seeming to have lost her capacity to speak. She clasped her hands together and bowed her body lower on the floor.

 _Please, please, please..._

Antony Granger, her husband, was beside her. Wide blank eyes, whole body trembling, tears escaping his eyes; he stood quietly, absorbing the weight of the situation. It was inevitable, yes. Though just a lowly farmer, he was a very intelligent man. It didn't take much wit to know that he had no power to protest the order of the King. The decision was final; he will not be able to save his daughter no matter how hard he tries.

King Abraxas Malfoy III, stares down at the couple from the throne, expressionless. There was nothing else he could do, the couple should know that too. What they were going to do was for the realm, not for anyone else's selfish gain. _Right?_

To save the realm; and that's all that mattered. _Of course._

The King looked to the General of his Kingsguard, regarded him and spoke, "Begin."

The swish of two swords. Bodies crumbling to the floor. Blood splattered everywhere.

 _The life of a few, for the life of many._

…

The Kingdom of Hogwarts was beautiful. There was an abundance of all needed resources which its citizens are able to enjoy and use for their productivity.

There was the Azkaban Sea. Spans over the whole east of the land. With its waters healthy and unpolluted, it is a great resource of food and work. Its water borders were calm enough for the fisher folks to always safely venture out and catch aplenty.

They were also blessed with the resources perfect for mining. The mountain they call the Goblet of Fire is a holder of various gems, rare stones, and minerals. It was named as such after the miners have discovered that ruby takes precedence in terms of quantity found within the mountain.

Lastly, their lands were also very fertile. A perfect place for farming, Hogwarts is known to be an agricultural kingdom. Everyone knew: great produce can always be expected if harvested from them.

Generations after generations, the kingdom had continued to enjoy good fortune. Other countries have greatly envied their realm, eager to know the secret of their kingdom's success _._

The Beauxbatons, the country to their west, have theorized that the bloodline of the Malfoys have brought this fortune possible. The Durmstrangs, the country to their north, however do not acknowledge the Malfoys to be the cause. In their eyes, Hogwarts was simply lucky being gifted with the natural resources it has, and the citizens have taken the great opportunity to nurture and let it grow to its best capacity.

 _They didn't know._

No single soul outside Hogwarts knew of the ugly truth that energizes its land to thrum with good fortune.

No single soul inside Hogwarts ever dared to share the truth.

This was an unspoken agreement by all its citizens, their excuses for not disclosing it to others were varied, but they were united with one true purpose: to protect the place Hogwarts have established in the world. If the truth remained a secret and maintained within their kingdom, they will always be known as the best, and the greatest. The best harvest, the best catch; more trade, more profit, more _wealth_.

Of course, all is well for each and every citizen.

That is, as long as their family was not chosen to offer _the sacrifice_.

…

According to the recorded origins in _Hogwarts: A History,_ this tradition began since the time of the founding fathers of Hogwarts. Every decade, a sacrifice is offered to commemorate the pact between the founding fathers and the magical beings called _Veelas_.

Veelas were the original occupants of the kingdom. They were magical beings described as having extraordinary beauty, intellect, and power. Long life was also blessed upon these beings, most of their species having lived for over a hundred years. Their features were not that different to that of humans except for their distinct long ears, piercing cat-like eyes, and their elegant wings.

During their exclusive reign of Hogwarts, humans likened them to the gods.

Until, one journey changed the fate of the whole Veela race.

...

Centuries ago, with the strong leadership of Marcus Malfoy II, he and his men explored what others have not dared do before: sail to the very elusive Kingdom of Hogwarts. Because what are men if not curious beings?

So sail they did. And welcomed they were when they landed at the shores of Hogwarts.

King Regulus Black IV and Queen Celia Black were the monarchs at the time; kind and hailed by all their people for their fair governance. They welcomed the men as their own, afraid to miss the chance of uniting the two races.

They didn't expect however, that their daughter Narcissa Black, just at the age of 15 will be mated with Marcus Malfoy.

 _Thus, marking the beginning of their end._

The grandest wedding in the history of the Kingdom was held—the first union of both man and Veela a big deal for both lands. All of Marcus' relatives were present, and was offered the opportunity to live in the Kingdom. Their union an exemplar of love, peace and abundance.

A decade of happiness and greater fortune was blessed upon Hogwarts before it burned. Lucius Malfoy, now famously known as Lucius the Founder, was Marcus older brother. Overridden with jealousy for the kingdom Marcus had found, and lust for the extraordinary wife he holds in his arms, Lucius destroyed all the Veelas, and rebuilt an empire for himself. A newfound empire, previously owned by God-like Veelas; now for humans to lead and build.

With his mercy, he spared one Veela, so that the powers of the creature could continue to bring Hogwarts good fortune. They established a pact that in return for the good fortune the Veela will provide, a life of a maiden must be given to him every decade.

 _At least, that's what the history books say._

It failed to note how a single Veela turned on his own race and wiped them out in a single night. How that Veela wanted to be the only _one_ to be known as _God_. He wanted more life, over a hundred years is not enough. He wanted a millennia—nay, he never wanted to die. He didn't believe in having mates, denying that he had any form of weakness such as love. _Repulsive._

So when the humans came to their shores, he found an opportunity. He observed that they had a life force different from his kind; a life force more susceptible than theirs. If he could, he wanted to know if it is possible to absorb that life force for his gain; to continuously energize him.

The day after the humans arrived, the men and their wives were allowed to roam the Kingdom. When he caught sight of some of the wives wandering far from their husbands, he snatched one woman and took her to a back alley to test his theory. True enough, after he was done with her, he found himself with new energy. When more of the humans came to celebrate his cousin Narcissa's wedding, he took a young human girl, and found another new discovery.

Over a decade, as humans continue to litter the kingdom, he quietly tested his theories. Behind everyone's backs he slowly and carefully planned his rise to power. Making use of the weak Lucius, the Malfoys became his puppet ever since.

At last, Tom Riddle was able to get what he wanted—eternal life.

…

Hermione Granger was a farmer's daughter.

Her social status never really became an issue for her, and she wondered why people made a big deal by discriminating against her family. They were uncivilized, they said. They were dirty, they said. They were always surrounded by soil and mud, their blood may as well be made of it too, they said. _Mudblood!_ she could still hear the hateful word she always got when she was a child at the back of her head.

 _It's been so long._ She paid no mind to what others thought because as far as she was concerned, living in the farm made her happy. Everyday had a purpose, and she held her head high knowing the dignity of the work of a farmer.

In contrast to common belief, though they did not have the capacity to get a formal education, the Grangers have always supported growth through knowledge. The Grangers always taught themselves how to read and write and always invested in books whenever they had saved enough to buy one or two. Their thirst for knowledge not different from Hermione's. The girl even venturing to sneak into the libraries in every place she has been to to read as much as she can.

However, any stored knowledge or finished book, could not have helped them from the decision.

Even when she was younger, neighboring families of the Grangers, and even those who were able to see the girl for the first time have regarded Hermione as a bud blooming to become a stunning beauty. As much delight the others found in that fact, the greater the burden and horror to the Grangers became.

They needed to protect her. If she is proven to be a fair maiden at the mark of the next decade, she will definitely be chosen to be the next sacrifice.

Truth be told, when the time came, she had been chosen.

…

It all happened so fast. One minute she was dragging a plow in the fields. The next thing she knew, _she_ was being dragged from the field. At first she tried struggling, thrashing her body and screaming for help. Their neighbors were out of their houses, looking at her. _Just_ looking at her.

She immediately stopped resisting. Growing up in the Kingdom meant she knew there was only _one_ reason a girl like her will be dragged in broad daylight, without _anyone_ even trying to rescue her. So she lets them drag her to the fields.

...

Both her hands and feet were tied to a wooden cross laid down in the middle of the field. She was naked, a large cut of ruby placed above her abdomen, the mark of the sacrifice.

Hermione Granger was looking up at the sky, her only source of solace and peace at this time of hopelessness. She supposed, she should have felt cold, but she felt nothing. The truth of the situation numbing her completely.

This—her being tied, laid down, and left alone in the middle of the field—was the last piece of information documented in the scrolls she have come across about the ritual. _It always ended in the field._ Whatever happened after previous sacrifices have been left here, no one knows. What was sure was whoever was picked, will never return to the Kingdom, and at the wake of the sacrifice's disappearance, a new decade of abundance is welcomed.

" _For the realm_ ," she whispered into the night as she let a single tear escape unknowingly from her eye.

Along with the sound of the breeze passing, the leaves of the trees rustling, Hermione suddenly heard footsteps closing in on her. The sound stopped near the foot of the cross.

" _Look at me_ ," it was a male's voice, a dark and low one.

She shivered, embarrassed at the thought of being so exposed, and desperately wanted to untie her hands to cover herself from the stranger. Disregarding the command, Hermione kept her eyes glued to the sky; her innate stubbornness was not famous in the Kingdom for nothing after all.

" _Look at me,"_ the man repeated now with a sharp tone in his voice.

As much as she wanted to keep defying whoever he was, she can't help but think that it would most likely be better to get over this as quickly as possible. If she were meant to die tonight, then what else could she do but abide by it? No matter if she stayed or escaped, she will die anyway. If not by this stranger's hand, then by the anger of the citizens of the realm. It was her choice if she wanted to prolong her agony or not. With a sigh, she lifted her head up to look at him.

 _Electricity._

She suddenly felt wet and was rubbing her thighs unconsciously. It would have took some time to adjust her eyes to the darkness, but somehow she could vividly see him.

His hair was black, short and unkempt. His eyes were slitted, _i_ _nhuman;_ somewhat similar to the cat she had when she was younger. He was staring straight into her eyes as if he was slowly entering her body through it. She felt her blood rushing to her cheeks at the thought; yes, she was young, and a virgin, but that did not mean she was _naive._ Hermione panicked when she registered his state of undress.

The creature in front of her was not bulky, he was _lean_. Though he wasn't big in build, his muscles were clearly defined and toned. Tried as she might to not look past his pelvis, her eyes went down eventually. Though she had never seen one, she knew that his was _huge._ For the first time since the morning she had been dragged to this mess, she considered the possibility of _not_ dying. She should be relieved but she's _not._

Hermione looks up at the sky. "If you're going to kill me, be quick and get on with it," she tried to sound strong but her voice cracked.

" _I apologize_ ," her head snapped back up, hearing his voice sent her whole body tingling, "but I do _not_ intend to kill you."

Rather than being cold being exposed like that, she was strangely beginning to get hot.

Then when she thought nothing stranger would happen, he revealed his wings with one graceful and elegant move. The gust of wind from the action reaching her immediately.

That's when something shattered from within her.

All thought, logic or rationale fled from her. Against her will, she arched her back from the wooden cross and _moaned_. She was on fire. It was as if a veil has been lifted from her, and in its place was a burning need totally consuming her.

Hermione was panting, back still high in the air, trying to reach for contact— _any_ contact. With all the force she could muster, she struggled to break away from the cross and free her hands knowing that she needed to find something, to fill this _need_ she has. What it was, she did not know. She was rapidly getting so fucking wet, the idea only familiar to her from gossips and some of the books she has read. It was _scandalous_ , it was _wrong_ , she thought as she rubbed her legs harder together. The action made her moan louder, and arch her back higher.

 _It's not enough,_ she groaned.

Suddenly the ropes restraining her feet were cut loose, and two hands firmly held her bare legs.

She almost screamed at the contact, her pleasure overflowing. The hands started to caress and move; the touch burned her everywhere but it felt _so good_. She could feel a burst of wetness again and when she moved to rub her legs together to ease it, her legs were spread apart. A groan of protest rumbled from her throat, and she looked at the creature with hate.

He entered her in one full thrust, and Hermione screamed and hit her head in the wood so hard, she started to feel lightheaded. _No pain, only pleasure._ She was so wet that he easily made it all the way inside her. He pounded himself in her while muttering " _Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine,"_ under his breath. Hermione's mouth was open, her eyes closed as she grunted approval of what he was doing. She so badly wanted to touch anything—her breasts, his hair, his body—except being tied down.

As if hearing her thoughts, she felt something soft caress both of her breasts. When she looked up, the image made her come so hard that her shriek may have woken up everyone in the Kingdom. He was mercilessly pounding into her, hands holding her hips, and his wings were caressing her breasts like they had a mind of their own. The creature was not near satisfied however as he placed Hermione's legs on his shoulders and continued to pound into her, harder and faster, the slapping of the skin wet and sensual to Hermione's ears.

" _You are mine. Your cunt is mine little bitch. I will fuck you every fucking day, you hear me?"_ the creature whispered directly to her ear . " _I promise you. My cock will always be inside you,"_ he said in between groans, _"your cunt will always welcome it. Your mouth will worship it."_

Hermione could only respond the affirmative " _Yes…Yes…Yours…Cock…Fuck, fuck…"_ He kissed her neck like he was devouring her. When Hermione was beginning to shake and was near her peak, he bit her long and hard, two fangs entering her flesh. The pain doubled the pleasure, and she was screaming the second time that night. As his venom was entering her body, her teeth started to elongate, and she in kind bit the flesh of his neck.

He came inside her _hard_. She was holding his cock with a vice, milking him of every essence he had to offer. Her abdomen hot with his seed. Her cunt overflowing of their combined essence, and it trickled down to the wood, and to the grass below them.

" _The next time we fuck, I want to hear my name from your lips,_ " Hermione still in a daze, began to get wet again. "My name is Tom Riddle," he said in between swipes of his tongue on her breast, his wings moved to cut the ropes of her hands, "You could call me My Lord," devouring her breast fully, eliciting a moan from Hermione.

Hermione Granger was totally lost. Her life, her thoughts, and her entire being, now fully someone else's. Her humanity was the sacrifice, leaving a shell that only exist for one and only one purpose: to _serve_ Tom Riddle.

Before she knew it he was pounding in her again, the life force she have provided surging strong within his veins. The ritual was complete.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thank you so much for your reviews! I didn't know how much it meant for authors to see reviews before now. *sobs* It's really encouraging to see people responding to this. I'm making this a three shot, so one more chapter will follow after this one and that's it. I think that's all I could do. Don't forget to tell me what you think in your reviews. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything. WARNING: Mature contents ahead. Read at your own risk.

* * *

 _She was different._

Tom could feel it with how powerful he has become after absorbing just the first little amount of life force he had sucked from her.

 _She is powerful._

Long, glorious years have passed since the end of his race, and the beginning of his eternal life. When Veelas were still alive, everyone in his kind was so engrossed in finding their mates, believing that finding theirs is their life's greatest purpose. They believed it was their greatest strength. _Funny how they failed to see it as their only true weakness._ The ease of Tom's success was in taking advantage of that very weakness. He made use of the life bond Veelas and their mates share. Simply put, once marked and mated: you kill one, you kill the other.

However, no matter how smart that plan was, it wasn't enough. He knew he had to have a fallback—a strategy to protect himself effectively for a long time. His plan would be in vain if he was killed prematurely because of a weak plan. A King always places his pawns at the front of the battlefield. They fight for their King, and die protecting their King, and that's what Tom intends to do for all eternity. He needs to find his pawns.

Enter Lucius Malfoy. The stupid human who made it all _so much_ easier for Tom. Ambitious to gain more power, but too much of a coward to actually make it happen. Adored his younger brother, but harbored too much pride to let himself be bested by him. Claimed to love Narcissa Black with all his heart but did not waver in accepting the opportunity for him to rape her. Weak in leadership, strong in politicking.

So when Tom convinced Lucius that what he will be doing will be more beneficial for Lucius than it will be for him, he made him swear an unbreakable oath for his and all his successors' allegiance. So Lucius killed his own brother, not knowing about the life bond, and Narcissa died as well.

Tom Riddle, who have deceived everyone with his gentle smiles and attractive looks, was easily welcomed by all Veelas in their homes. They agreed to meet in private or accept a wine glass from him; all proved to be lethal.

By the next sunrise, he was the last Veela alive.

Lucius got to be the face of the Kingdom, able to spend, drink and fuck without worrying about ruling the Kingdom at all. Tom was able to have all the power for himself, and conquer death without anyone questioning his means.

 _Funny, indeed that the only Veela at the time to have no mate, came out the strongest and now lone survivor._ Tom had no regrets. Why would he? Though faint, he could still feel the combined life forces of all of more than a hundred maidens he had taken in his body. _He is eternal. He is God._

...

He is pleased with what Abraxas have picked for him this time. He looked at the piece of paper in his hand, an owl came earlier to deliver the name of his maiden; _Hermione Granger_ is written on it.

They were back in his haven. To the citizens, it is more commonly known as The Forbidden Forest. Located beyond the known border of the Kingdom of Hogwarts, it was secluded and far apart from the Kingdom. Before the time of humans in Hogwarts, this forest was called the _Garden of Eden_. It was half as big as the kingdom itself, and beautiful without comparison. Flowers of all kinds bloomed wildly everywhere, presenting a beautiful mix of colors and a fragrance _so good_ one would wish to live there forever. It was considered sacred by the Veela's; their place for peace and recreation. After their demise, Tom had made this piece of land _his._ He made it untouchable and unreachable by spreading horrific and terrible stories so that no one would dare explore inside it. Previously a sacred space for a whole race, for Tom it was now merely his _fucking_ den.

Smirking at the thought, he turns and quietly walks. He stands at the foot of the makeshift bed his new life-bringer was lying in, naked and dirty with soil, still unbathed from their last night's romp. Sleeping comfortably on white feathers—his wings' feathers—she was clearly spent from last night. All the other maidens before her always had to rest for at least three days straight to regain their strength back before they were ready to be taken again. _That never stopped him from fucking them while they were sleeping though._ He smirks, just thinking about it made his already hard cock weep with anticipation of what he was about to do.

Hermione was lying on her side, so Tom moved her to lay on her back. He studies her body; unlike last night, it was now fully illuminated by the sun. The mark on her neck was still fresh, a strange feeling came to him briefly like a lingering afterthought. He immediately brushed it off. His hands move to her supple breasts, testing the feel of them on his hands. She shifts in bed but doesn't open her eyes. His hands travel lightly from her breasts to her waist, to her abdomen, then down to her thighs. He lets out a pained groan as he sees the dried come on her thighs, remembering last night. He holds his cock with one hand and starts to pull slowly. Tom lifts her thighs and lowers his mouth letting his tongue taste the trail of come from her thighs to her cunt.

Moaning in approval of how she tastes, he makes a large slow swipe of his tongue over her cunt. He began to violently stroke his member, the intensity equal to his need for the woman clueless on his bed. He slips his tongue inside her and tastes her cunt. Tom inserts one finger, and he just loves how wet she was becoming even when asleep. He sucks on her clit so hard and he heard her moan " _Tom_." He came with a groan, pumping out a long stream of his cum all over her face and her body.

When he was done, he started to lick his come off of her face, her breasts and trailed down to put his mouth on her cunt, fucking it with his tongue. She let out a soft moan. When Tom knew she was ready for his cock, halfway through pulling his tongue out, he felt hands grasping his hair tightly.

Hermione was sitting up, her eyes drooping and totally black, "I know you like how I taste, _my Lord,"_ her voice low and hoarse from screaming just a few hours ago, she spreads her legs wider and moves his head, "make me come with your _tongue_."

The shock from seeing her awake less than a day after their first fuck was forgotten as he immediately went to accomplish the obvious challenge she threw at him. She was shaking and mumbling nonsense in no time.

Delayed to his original intent, Tom immediately stood and scooped her up from the bed, entering her in one swift thrust. He didn't move yet, reveling in the tightness of her cunt gripping his cock. She arched her back at the intrusion, throwing her legs and her arms around Tom to fully accommodate him. She still lacks the strength to do this so early after last night that she's relying solely on Tom's hands holding her hips to not fall.

He slowly pulls out halfway and starts to walk. With every step, he slowly fills her up again. Then slowly pulling out, he slams her on a tree, pumping into her as if he plans to engrave her in it. _"You feel so tight, fuck,"_ he said, _"How can you still be so tight after last night?"_

Both hands fiercely tangled in his hair, nibbling on his ear she whispered between gasps, " _No talk. Just fuck me, my Lord."_ He pounds into her faster and harder, making her lose her grip on his hair. One hand on his shoulder, the other on the tree, Hermione sinks her nail on both hard enough to draw blood, as she came. Her cunt tightens further and Tom presses his hands on Hermione's hips harder to make sure it will bruise, and he spread his wings as he came.

…

A week had passed, Tom never missing a day of ravishing his new tireless life-bringer. It was as if her force doesn't diminish no matter how much he sucks out from her. When he grows curious as to how long this one will last by his side, he finds himself fucking her again—and he was _always_ curious.

Before Hermione, a maiden called Bellatrix Lestrange, would have been the strongest and longest he had one yet, lasting almost five years. If he remembers correctly, Bella was not capable of doing what Hermione was currently doing. The others were lucky to have lived for a year or two, there were a few who didn't even last a month, and there was one who perished on their first night.

No matter; as long as he is able to absorb new life, the duration of their stay didn't matter. Tom preferred to be alone anyway. The supposed life span of the maiden he takes transfers to him, and that was enough. He had more than thousand years of life coursing through him. The duration of their survival as his life-bringer did not depend on their health (though it plays a small part), rather it lies heavily on their compatibility with him.

Once they have used up all their energy for him and proves incompatible with his Veela, they perish and turn into dust, becoming one with the soil that fertilizes the forest. Ironic that these corrupt acts against these innocents was strangely making the forest grow more flowers, and smell more fragrant than it was ever before. It was seriously encouraging him to say the least.

The girl on his bed stirs. They just finished a few minutes ago. This time biting her again over the same mark on her neck-the one he made on their first night. He plans to do it regularly to make the mark on her neck stay fresh with his venom. He is always pleased to see the mark, most of the time intensifying his orgasm at the sight of it. Along with that feeling, he can now name the odd feeling he has when he sees it: _possessiveness_.

She was an unexpected treasure. _His_ treasure. And it was truly a wonder how she had been capable to wake up _every day_ after he fucks her thoroughly. If he compared her to those before her, with how much power he had sucked from her, she would most definitely be dust two days ago. His strength and power worth a decade had already been filled by this girl, in just _a week_. If this continues, he may not need to have a new life-bringer decade after decade—decreasing the potential risk of all Kingdoms finding out what he was using the offered maidens for. Not that he could still think of taking anyone anymore after this girl beside her.

As it were, he was mulling about her _again_ and how long she will last.

So he fucks her in her sleep excited for her to wake up when she comes.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** : Last chapter! Again, this was not what I intended at all (seeing that this was first meant to be a one-shot), and it just ended up this way. Would love to hear from you guys! I don't have a beta for my stories so please forgive the errors. Though it would be great if you help me by pointing them out~

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. WARNING: Mature content ahead. Might not be safe for work, so read when you reach home. Enjoy~

* * *

Three years have passed in peace. Marcus and Narcissa were happily married, and the Kingdom of Hogwarts continues to flourish.

Though the past couple of years were marked with remarkable changes in the scheme of the Kingdom, and good fortune still blesses the land; an end to that glory looms ahead. It was the same year of King Regulus IV's one hundred and seventy-sixth birthday. A few weeks before the celebration, exactly a month before his birthday, the realm watched as he started to grow weak due to old age. The kingdom-wide preparation for the feasts were put to a halt. The whole of Hogwarts, both Veelas and newly resided humans, were praying for the recovery of the King and Queen. Both were dearly loved by everyone with their sincere care and fair ruling over the realm during their seat in power.

Three days before his birthday, the King died, and the Queen being his mate, died with him. A whole month was dedicated to grieve the great loss the realm has incurred. The whole kingdom was draped in black, pubs previously lit and merry until dawn did not open, and did not serve drinks all throughout. The residents wore white or black to express their condolences. Melancholic music filled the streets performed by usually jolly entertainers.

But despite the grief, the kingdom needed to get back on its own two feet and start anew. So not long after, by the end of the month of grieving, King Marcus Malfoy and Queen Narcissa Malfoy, were crowned new leaders of Hogwarts.

They both advocated and pushed for the unity between Veela and men. Assigning their esteemed personnel to spearhead occasions which will bring a stronger bond between the two races, they got to establish the foundation of a new era for Hogwarts. Both Veela and man, were thankfully welcome to the presence of the other, acknowledging mutual interests and advantages in sharing information about each other's best practices. The whole realm was enjoying a time of newfound unity, peace and prosperity.

Everything was going as they have planned, except for one small yet constant bit of news the King and Quen were receiving over the years. It started with a girl named Myrtle Elizabeth Warren, disappearing after taking permission from her parents to go to the public baths. She went out of their home one summer afternoon, expected to come back before sundown. However, the sun went down, and a new day began, yet she still did not come back. It was then that her parents came rushing to alert the guards.

After her, there was always a constant news of maidens' disappearances at least once a month. No matter how hard the royal guards have scoured the entire kingdom to locate the missing girls—either alive or dead—no body has ever surfaced.

King Marcus had no clue what was happening, or who was to blame. But amidst all of the people surrounding him, if he were to follow his instincts he had a hunch of who might be causing this terror. He was careful enough not to let his opinions be obvious to others. The King was suspicious of Narcissa's youngest cousin, Tom Riddle. From the very moment he saw him in attendance during his wedding, he already sensed something _off_ about him. Especially when King Marcus caught Tom's brief glare towards King Regulus and Queen Celia. When Marcus blinked, Tom already had a gentle smile, his eyes focused as he talked to one of the guests.

He considered it to be his imagination, believed it and didn't pay much attention to it. Until he found out one of his most trusted Veela advisors, Albus Dumbledore, felt the same towards Riddle. It was a passing conversation, which Marcus did not bring up, but Albus suddenly voiced his concern towards the true intentions of Tom Riddle for gaining support from the majority of the Veela population, and more recently, the men.

There was danger in their own halls, he could feel it; so other than the necessary information his advisors needed to know, Marcus did not disclose anything too personal to any of them. No one could be trusted. Maybe not even Dumbledore, and not even his own brother Lucius Malfoy.

The only one he could trust was his Queen.

On their seventh year of reign, Narcissa finally conceived. It has been a decade since their marriage, and after countless failed attempts, they have finally been given the gift they so long to have. Such great news should be shared to the whole kingdom, they both know this. But it pains them to know that they could not guarantee their child's protection if the realm knew. So they decided to keep it a secret from everyone, except those who will nurse the Queen to delivery. Marcus let Narcissa choose who to entrust this information to, limiting it only to two people at most, seeing that their family might be in more danger when news broke out that an heir is to be born.

The day Narcissa gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, the 19th of September was the same day their whole race was wiped out.

Tom's plan was already set in motion. Countless Veelas have already dropped dead as Narcissa labored in one of the secret chambers of the castle. A few more have died as Marcus fought with Lucius in the throne room, swords swinging and echoing in the empty room.

There was the distinct smell of death that night, surrounding the air that the child was to be born in. When the first cry of the babe was heard, already half of the Veelas were dead; and Marcus weakening from strain of the fight. Narcissa looked at her baby girl with tears streaming down her face, _"You are beautiful."_ She was not quite a Veela, not quite a human. A balance of both bloodlines run through her veins. The babe had Marcus' brown eyes, and Narcissa's beautifully pale porcelein skin. Through her remaining strength, Narcissa casted a transfiguring charm over her baby so that every feature that may possibly point out that she is a half-Veela is hidden; molded to her skin and disguised as a normal form of a human babe.

Narcissa struggles to breathe, feeling Marcus' fatigue with her own, " _Hermione. Her name is Hermione,_ " she took a long steadying breath, " _protect her at all costs, when my husband and I cannot._ " At that same moment, Lucius' sword have finally struck Marcus with one final thrust to the gut. Narcissa coughed up blood, looked at her entrusted confidante straight in the eyes and said, " _I am relying on you and your kin, Harold Granger._ "

Marcus died, his bloody form heaped at the center of the throne room.

Narcisa died, with one last kiss to Hermione Malfoy's forehead.

The whole race of Veelas died that night, their life forces transferring to all but one babe, sleeping soundly in the arms of a mere farmer.

...

She never knew exactly what she was.

No one ever told her why she needed to pretend that her playmates when she was young, were to be called as her parents when a couple of years pass; when they grow old, and she does not. No one really ever explained to her why they needed to transfer places from one corner of the Kingdom, to the opposite corner, every after a few years. It has been like this ever since she could remember.

Hermione had observed the people around her grow old and die, and she had always wondered why she didn't. _How was she any different?_

No one knew what she was, no one cared to explain. _Maybe they didn't know either? How was she supposed to know?_ All she knew was that they were just a family of farmers, poor and uneducated, and thus had limited access to material or information that could help her figure out what was _wrong_ with her. Even after living for so long, no amount of books or texts, or scrolls have had an exact explanation for her.

A few times over the course of a thousand years, she had heard one parent after another, tell a new child of the Granger family: "You have to protect Hermione at all costs, when your father and I cannot. It is our family tradition. It is a gift and an honor, remember this always."

There was a hunch she didn't want to entertain. _It wasn't possible though, because it's not in any books. And books should have everything in them_ , she thought. But she still thought it anyway: _Veelas?_ It was the only thing close to an explanation. Yet from the materials she have read, Veelas' lifespan are longer than humans, it didn't mean they will not age physically. The changes in their body was slower—but not to the extent of what she was experiencing. Over a thousand years old already, and still, her physical body had just turned 18 that year.

It was a very lonely journey to be in. Her family, the Grangers, have always been kind, and patient with her. They told her that she was special. For the first number of generations, that explanation had been enough. She had become tired to hear it at some point, seeing so many of her family members be born and die repeatedly. All those years, generation after generation have been successful in hiding her. It was a tough feat, but the breadth of the kingdom had allowed them to be successful in the challenge.

Her identity had all been a mystery to her until the night of the sacrifice.

The moment _he_ had spread his white wings on the night of the ritual, something inside her shattered.

A thousand years worth of hiding, had slowly started to peel away from her skin.

He unraveled her, and for the first time in a thousand years, she finally felt she truly _belonged_ somewhere.

For that she will be eternally grateful for him. Not knowing he was the murderer of the race she will never come to know, the one who killed the culture she will never be able to experience, and the one responsible for the death of the parents she will never get to see.

To her, he was her Savior.

 _Hers._

...

Tom woke up to seeing his whole cock inside Hermione's mouth.

When she felt him shift in his sleep, she turned her eyes to his and moans—glad that she finally had his attention. She started moving her head and suck, her hand playing with his balls. She was gagging, his cock repeatedly reaching her throat. She moves one hand to touch herself, as she increases her speed. She moans, the vibrations felt so good. He comes _hard_. Hermione didn't let go, and swallowed every last drop of the hot seed he released. When he was done, she lets his cock go with a loud wet pop. She smiles a devilish smile, sat up and aligned his still hard cock to her entrance.

She was looking at him straight in the eyes, one hand holding his chest, the other holding his cock as she slowly sank down on him. Her mouth was dripping with combined saliva and come and she gives him a smirk. She puts one finger to her mouth then put her hand on her breast, massaging it as she rotates her hips. She bites her lower lip and rotates her hips again. They both let out a long moan. Tom, impatient, tried to move his hands to grab her hips and pound her on his cock; but he just realized his hands were tied. She widens her smirk, and rotates her hips again before pounding herself to his cock wildly. Her large breasts were bouncing so hard as she was gasping out, " _My Lord, my Lord,_ " and he moves his hips upward to meet her with her every pound. One hand still on her breast and the other playing with her clit, the image before his eyes makes him elongate himself more inside her—a perk of having an innate talent in transfiguration.

 _She was beautiful._

 _"Take me. Fuck me. Yes yes yes,"_ she mumbles out all the while holding his eyes with her own. He now uses his full strength to break free from the ropes, and holds her hips to guide her pounding into him. She was trembling so hard. With mouth open, she closes her eyes shut, and comes with a scream.

Then suddenly a set of jet black wings emerge from her back.

Her orgasm intensifies as every whistle of wind ruffles her sensitive feathers. Her cunt tightening further around his cock.

Tom comes as the gust of wind from her wings reaches his nose. When they looked at each other, both eyes were a reflection of the other—cat-like and piercing. He was astonished. _How could there be another? After over a thousand years?_

She bewilders him. He sits up, not pulling out, and turned Hermione's body away from him, making a wet sound from where they were connected.

He looks at her jet black wings, shiny and glittering under the sunlight. She was starting to slowly move up and down on his cock, when he caressed one of her feathers; she stops, tightens and lets a loud groan escape from her. She reaches for both of his hands; places one above her breast encouraging him to massage her there, and the other hand guiding to touch her wings again.

As expected from the sexual drive of a Veela, she never tires, never satisfied. After a pause, he pushes her down to her elbows and fucks her relentlessly from behind. Her ass high in the air, he continues to play with her breasts. In this position he was reaching so much deeper inside her. When she was near orgasm, he pulled out. Hermione groaned in protest, but he started to caress her wings again. It tensed, and it trembled as she leaned her back to him. With her whole body shaking from pleasure, she reached for his head and brought his lips down to hers. A fierce and sensual war of tongues, each tasting the other thoroughly, she turned herself around to fully press her breasts to his chest, molding her whole body to his. Without warning, he entered her again, and her mouth gaped open as she stared at him, " _I have taken hundreds,_ " Thrust. " _No one like you_ ," Thrust. " _You're a Veela,"_ Thrust. " _Hermione Granger,_ " he said her name as he thrust all the way in. They came at the same time, both holding each other's trembling form, and both wings out and fluttering like them.

They laid down and Hermione reached out to her belly, feeling the lump where his cock was inside her, and as she felt him continue to burst his seeds into her, she tightens her cunt to accept every hot essence he could fill her with.

When he was done, before she closed her eyes to rest, she gave him a quick kiss on his forehead and smiled.

He stared at her as she slept. Lost as to how this was all possible. To how _she_ was possible.

They slept with Tom still stubbornly inside her.

...

During the night, he was awaken by a strange sound.

There was someone else in the forest besides them. Not moving an inch to sense his surroundings, he found it weird he could not locate where the intruder was.

Reluctantly, he pulled out from Hermione and stood up. He was sure there was someone else. He could surely hear three heartbeats present in the forest. One was his. Second was Hermione's.

He turned to look at Hermione's sleeping form, and went closer to her again, to confirm if he was hearing it correctly. One heartbeat was coming from her chest. And another from under her belly.

He huffs tiredly, not expecting himself to be so slow in arriving at this conclusion. He smiles at the irony. The realization hit him as he put the puzzle pieces together. One, and only one could bear his child after all.

He knew she's _different._ He felt she's _powerful._ He thought she's _beautiful._

When he saw his mark on her neck, he felt possessive. It made sense how he did not immediately recognize—nay, he did not want to acknowledge it to be true, for it meant he was no different from his kind. It meant he too has a weakness.

 _Hermione Granger was his mate._

 _-END-_

* * *

 **P.S. LOL WHAAAAAAAT.** I dunno, I dunno.

To explain just a few stuff. In the end, there were three important sacrifices made in the entirety of the story that made it possible for Tom and Hermione to meet. In chronological order: 1. Lucius' sacrifice of his morality in exchange for power - he killed his own brother making it possible for Tom to control the Kingdom; 2. King Marcus' and Queen Celia's sacrifice of the truth in exchange for Hermione's protection - they didn't let anyone know she existed, didn't have the trust on anyone to share their suspicions about Tom, so the Grangers always thought it was the Lucius' doing, and; 3. the Kingdom of Hogwarts' sacrifice of Hermione and every maiden before her to bring Tom eternal life in exchange for the realm's continuous abundance.

The last bit of lemons is just to emphasize how Hermione have fully given herself to the only creature closest to being her _true_ home: Tom. She doesn't and will never know the truth, because no one had written it down in _Hogwarts: A History_ or any other history book for that matter. Tom and Lucius made sure of it. Ironically for Tom though that it goes full circle to him. He wanted to be alone that's why he killed all the Veelas. But in so doing, he enabled Hermione to be as eternal as him. He can't kill her because if he does, he also will. He won't anyway because he likes her. Poor Tom. Anyway, blah I dunno if that was a good ending or not. What do you guys think?


End file.
